


Don’t Save Me This Time

by StarSixtySeven



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Clint pranks the team, Doctor!Reader, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Infinity War doesn’t happen though, Kidnapping, Mentions of Cancer, Multi, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Takes place about the time of Infinity War, Threesome - F/M/M, Torture, Weird ass dreams, a lot of PSTD, but they aren’t really related, its a little sad, mentions of autism, reader has ptsd, reader is Bruce’s “niece”
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:06:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24433288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarSixtySeven/pseuds/StarSixtySeven
Summary: “C’mon, Doll!” You giggled behind your glass.“What?” Bucky rolled his eyes. What a surprise. He was very sassy.“You know everything about us! But you’re still a mystery to me and Steve. You gotta tell us something! Level out the playing field!”“You know things about me.”“Yeah, but what about the other stuff? No life changing secrets that you could tell us about?”You leaned in close enough to his face that he could smell the vodka on your breath and see the glimmer of mischief in your eyes. You turned your head and whispered into his ear.“I don’t think you can handle my secrets, Soldier Boy.” Your voice sent shivers down his spine, and when you pulled away, he was sure you knew the affect you had on him from the smirk on your painted lips. “I’m gonna go find Steve.”As you left with a sway in your hips, Bucky was even more curious.****Six years ago, you knew the Avengers.  And now, you couldn't stand to look at them. You spent the last six years trying to rebuild your life, even though your spirit was pretty much shattered, and now, you stumble back upon them.And a lot has changed.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 16
Kudos: 126





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So I’ve had this idea for a while and I’m really glad to have finally gotten it down on paper (or text or whatever it is on this site). I’m going to try and have all the science and medical things in this be as accurate as possible. And there will be some mention of autism during these chapters, but it is purely because of a connection to the reader's backstory that I chose it. It will unfold as the chapters roll out. Anyway, enjoy!!!

_6 Years Ago_

**_Be-Beep. Be-Beep. Be-Beep._ **

Two overlapping heartbeats sounded on the monitors next to the beds, the green lines going up and down, taunting you. You always hated the noise they made, and swore that they could make someone go mad. You’d think for the amount of time you’d ended up in hospitals that eventually you would’ve gotten used to the irritating beeping noise. But no, you still detested it. You just detested hospitals in general. With their clean white walls and stench of bleach, you would rather be anywhere else. So much that one time you fought kicking and screaming (well, as much as you could during an asthma attack) to get away from a group of paramedics trying to wrangle you into an ambulance, and pouted to your mother when they eventually got you in and strapped down to a stretcher. Normally you were pretty chill, but when you wanted to, you could be stubborn as hell. The nurses at the hospital weren’t really that nice to you after that, but they were never in a good mood anyway. That’s probably another one of the reasons why you despised hospitals so much. When the people working them weren’t being nasty, they had fake smiles and pitiful eyes. You were seeing a lot of those from your uncomfortable plastic seat in the disinfected room. Needless to say, you didn’t want to be there. 

But you still were.

You had sat there for hours, keeping watch on the unconscious bodies lying on the beds, attached to cords and wires. You hated that too. Hated the helplessness of not being able to do anything but sit and watch. Sit and wait. It felt like torture. No, you didn’t want to make that comparison. It wasn’t fair. 

You didn’t know what torture was like, but someone else in the room could tell you. 

If they weren’t in a coma. 

The tears had stopped. They can’t flow for more than a few hours. But you’d been there all day, and after a while, none came out anymore. All that was left was the glistening trails on your cheeks accompanied by bloodshot eyes. It was a slight relief. You hated crying. Hated that it showed how weak you were. You didn’t deserve to cry. How was that fair?

After all the time spent sobbing, you were exhausted, and being sad takes too much energy. So it just faded away. Not entirely. It was still there, like a knife pressed gently into your back, just enough to remind you that it’s there, and any sudden movements could leave you sprawled dead on the floor. But the sharp, stabbing pain was gone, and now, all you felt was numb.

You liked that. Feelings sucked. They sucked so much. Feelings got you, _them_ , into this mess in the first place. Feelings make everything more difficult, screws with and scrambles our hopes and dreams in life. The unsuspecting lackey to the cruel and awful villain that is fate. Like love. Stupid. Childish. Something made for bedtime stories to distract kids from the monsters in the closet. Something that makes people do idiotic things for someone else. The thing that gives hope and shatters lives. 

Yeah, love sucked the most.

Love was what got those two people close to death lying in the paper-like sheets. Because you were loved, that’s the real reason that they were clinging onto life. 

You. 

There was one other thing. You weren’t entirely numb, although you wish you were. But the empty feeling was overpowered by the feeling of self loathing. 

Because right now, the thing you hated most was yourself. 

You knew it was your fault that they ended up in their current position. It was your fault that the doctor doesn’t know if either of them could make it through the night. The only thing that your exhausted mind could comprehend at this point. 

_This is your fault._

Sitting there, awake at 2:00 in the morning listening to the annoying beeping that let you know that they were alive was almost like a desperate attempt for you to fell a little less guilty, that even though everyone else left, you were still with them. But thinking about it like that just made you feel worse, like it was just some way for you to feel better. You drank the last sip of your coffee and tossed the empty cup into the trash can. You didn’t really like coffee, but you didn’t care at the moment either. Anything to keep you awake. It wasn’t that bad anyway, your aunts had put in a ton of cream and sugar. They were probably still outside with the others. Leaving you alone with your self destructive thoughts.

That was fair. You didn’t deserve company. 

_If they die it’s because of you._ He’s _gonna die and it’s all your fault._

No. You didn’t want to think about it like that. Didn’t want to accept the thought that they could just...be gone. 

As you continued to sit in silence, one of the nurses came in with a cart. Her name was the last thing on your mind, but you took the hot styrofoam cup that was handed to you with a quiet thanks. Of course, the coffee came with one of the pitying smiles, but you didn’t really care about that right now either. Whether it was because you were too tired or because that particular nurse had been genuinely kind to you throughout the hours you spent in the hospital, you couldn’t say. 

“How you feelin’, Hon?”

You just shrugged and kept your eyes on the floor. Extreme self hatred probably wasn’t the correct answer to the question. The nurse sighed and crouched down to the ground. She took her finger underneath your chin and tilted her face up to meet her eyes. 

“They told me what happened...Sweetie, this isn’t your fault.”

Every fibre of your being screamed out against that declaration. Wanted you to scream and shout about how without you, this wouldn’t have happened. 

But as much as you wanted to turn away and ignore the woman offering her comfort, you couldn’t. Deep down, you didn’t want to be alone, even though your mind was yelling at you to punish yourself by pushing everyone else away, but your heart was aching. You were weak, you which made you hate yourself more, but at the moment you didn’t care anymore. Your lip started to tremble and somehow your eyes glossed up again. Before all the floodgates broke, you choked out a word.

“How?”

The nurse wrapped her arms around you as you broke down and started to sob again. You shook and hiccuped, and had snot running down your face, but still, the nurse just held you as she cried. And eventually, the sobs turned into sniffles, and your face was lifted to look at the nurse’s freckles face. 

“Listen to me, baby.” She sounded like a mom, with a tone that made someone listen, and you did. “All of this is not your fault! You can’t blame yourself!”

You wiped your eyes and spoke with your wrecked voice. “I’m, sor-“

“Don’t apologize. It’s ok to cry. You can’t try and blame yourself for things that you can’t control. That’s not fair.” You nodded, although you didn’t fully believe that you couldn’t blame yourself for this. But she must’ve, because she smiled and stood up. She pulled the cart towards one of the beds. As she grabbed a new bag of I.V. fluid and switched it out for the old one, you just stared at her.

“Why do you do this?”

Your comment didn’t deter her from her task, but she sounded interested. “Do what?” 

“Work here. The ICU. Just-... How? How can you watch all of these people die and sit back and watch.” You didn’t care that much, but you wondered how she could work in a place like that and still be so happy.

“I guess... I want to help. And sometimes, what the people need here most is a friendly face. And I think that I was meant to be that friendly face. However it happens, life has a way to push you into what you're meant to do.” She looked back at you. “You know, I didn’t want to be a nurse when I was younger. But then life had a different plan. And now, I know this is where I’m meant to be.” You didn’t notice her finish up whatever she was doing and walk over to the door again since you were instead focused on a very interesting tile on the floor. She was about to leave when she turned back to you one more time. “If you need somethin’, just come and ask, ok, Hon?”

You nodded, not really paying attention. After all, the tile was very interesting. The nurse sighed and left, leaving you alone again. But you didn’t mind. You deserved it anyway. 

꧁ꕥ꧂

**_Be-Beep. Be-Beep. Be-Beep. Be-Beee-_ **

What? You looked up. That noise. You knew that noise. That noise was wrong. Shooting up from your chair, you couldn’t think as you ran to the side of the bed. What could you do? You had no idea. Panicking, you started shaking the body, your breathing coming out in pants. 

“No. No. C’mon wake up. You can’t do this!” Where was the doctor? “Help!” You screamed, because that’s all you could do. Scream and violently shake the dying person in the bed. After what felt like hours, but was probably seconds, a team ran in. You didn’t notice, only barely acknowledging the voices behind you. You were sobbing in earnest now, yelling for him to wake up. When a nurse came to pull you back, you were too weak to struggle. All you did was cry and shout hysterically as he carried you to the back of the room. Your body started to slump, but someone caught you. They were whispering something that you didn’t have the energy to focus on, and just held you while you sat on the floor. 

Someone yelled. Someone else ran in and screamed. They were pushed out the room. You sat there, tears streaming down your face, in the arms of a nurse you recognized as the one who spoke to you before. Loud noises came from the direction of the hospital beds, until they stopped. 

_**Beep. Beep. Beep.** _

Everything was going dark, and your fingertips felt fuzzy, like static from a radio. It was quiet too. You hated that. The silence. Silence held the feeling of impending doom. 

_**Beep. Beep. Beep.** _

Well, it wasn’t totally quiet. The beeping noise continued. You had a bad feeling setting into the pit of your stomach. About a thousand thoughts were running through your mind, and your brain was struggling to answer any of them. 

_**Beep. Beep. Beep.** _

You were going to pass out. You knew it. You could feel it. And you weren’t really upset. It would be like hitting the off button. No feelings when you're unconscious. But before you did, you managed to have one complete thought. 

_**Beep. Beep. Beep.** _

Is he ok?

The other patient. 

You found out later. He didn’t wake up when the noise sounded. His heart monitor continued to go. He lay in the other bed, with the paper sheets, blissfully unaware of your whole entire lives shattering in front of you. 

  
  


꧁ꕥ꧂

_Two weeks later_

  
  


Crying sucked. You were done with it. It was a waste of time. 

You hadn’t been back to the hospital. Didn’t go in when you heard the talk of a discharge. Didn’t go back to talk to him. You didn’t want to step foot in another hospital again. 

But no matter how hard you tried to stay away, you always ended up back inside the sterile walls. 

You were still a little confused on your reasoning for going back, but the tiny voice inside you had been insistent. 

You were looking for the nurse. 

You were annoyed you didn’t remember her name. That would have been so much easier than wandering aimlessly through the hallways looking for her face. You told the front office you were here to see someone, and they believed you. But you had no intention of going into that room again. 

  
  


For some reason though, you found yourself standing in front of the door, with your hand on the doorknob. You wanted to see him. 

_You were weak._

But before you could make the choice of whether or not to turn the handle, the door swung open. You hid behind it. 

“Bye, Honey. You know how to get me if you need me.” The nurse from before walked out, not noticing you from where you were behind the door. When she pulled it closed, she was startled to see you there, looking down at the floor. That seemed to be a new habit of yours as of late. “Goodness! Oh you scared me! Are you going to see-“

You cut her off before she could finish speaking. 

“How do I get into med-school?” You looked up at her, almost expecting her to laugh in your face. But she just looked at you, with a small, sad smile. Not a pitying one. An understanding one. 

“Let’s take a walk, ok?”

  
  


꧁ꕥ꧂

_Present Time_

“Oh shit, I’m late!”

Bruce Banner looked up from his watch and scrambled to find his jacket from wherever he last left it. It was a cold beginning to spring.

“Whoa, where are you going? We’re in the middle of this?” Tony Stark watched him search for the missing piece of clothing with a small look of disappointment on his face. They were in the middle of building new weapons for the team. It was mainly Tony’s forte, but Pepper needed someone to make sure he didn’t work himself to death.Besides, Bruce enjoyed developing the new tech with him. 

“I have a meeting.”

“What meeting? A date? It better be a date, ‘cause you know I don’t like it when people interrupt our Bro-Time.”

Bruce chuckled. “No, definitely not a date. Remember that cancer research that I was recruited for?” He asked as he found his coat underneath a workbench. 

“Uh, yeah. I think it rings a bell.”

“Well they are having some trouble getting another doctor on the team, and I might be able to convince her.”

The billionaire wiggles his eyebrows. “Convince her, huh?”

“Not like that!” Bruce cringed at the thought. “Just...I used to know her really well. And I might be able to get her on board.”

“Ok, Banner, you’re having a real hard time convincing me that this isn’t a date.”

He pulled open the door. “Goodbye, Tony!”

As Bruce left, Tony shouted over his shoulder. “Use protection!”

Bruce flipped him off as he walked down the hallway. 

꧁ꕥ꧂

The bell above the door rang as Bruce stepped into the small coffee shop. He glanced around, looking for a familiar face. 

When he spotted the woman he was looking for, he smiled. You were all grown up now. As he made his way over, a few people stared. Some already were staring in your direction, but that was expected when someone had their name put in the headlines. Bruce sat down at table across from you, but you didn’t look up from the papers you had until he had sat down. 

“Bruce. It’s nice to see you.” You could’ve fooled him. There was no smile on your face, or happiness in your eyes. You looked a little... broken. 

“Not “Uncle Bruce” anymore? You wound me, kid.” His hand covered his heart in mock pain to which you rolled your eyes at. 

“I haven’t called you that since I was little.” It was a lie, but you didn’t think he cared that much. 

“I was Uncle Bruce until you were 20-“

“Well I guess I changed a lot when I turned 20.” His smile faltered when you said that. “Look, we’re here on business, and you have about 20 minutes to convince me to join this team, so don’t waste it.” You didn’t mean for it to come out as harsh as it did, but you weren’t there to talk about family. Although the hurt in his eyes almost made you want to talk back what you said. Almost. 

He sighed and looked down at the ground. “No time to catch up, huh? Not even with family?”

You crossed your arms over your chest and looked at the ceiling. “You’re not my real uncle, Bruce. You only knew my dad-“

“And since when have you thought that blood makes families?” His comment made you snap your head towards him. He wasn’t taunting you, he was genuinely asking. He smiled. A pity smile. You didn’t want that. 

“Bruce, unless you want me to walk out of here right now, I suggest you change the subject.”

“Y/n, I’m sorry about what happened. I’m sorry I wasn’t around either-“

“Stop!” You whispered it, but it was spoken in a tone that made Bruce pause. You looked at the floor and ground your teeth. “I didn’t come to talk about family. I came to see why people want me on a research team that already had like 10 genius scientists on it. I’m trying to work on something else right now that’s barely getting any funding, so honestly-“ 

“Look, Y/n,” He cut you off. “You’re 26 years old, and have accomplished more than half of the people I’ll be working with. They want you because you're smarter than Tony Stark. They _need_ you because you know how to make a difference. Not many people have gotten multiple kids off the autism spectrum.”

You took a sip of your tea as he spoke. “Like I said, I’m trying to do research right now to help people with autism. Everyone runs to help the people with cancer, for an understandable reason, but I’m almost at a breakthrough, and having your guys harass me via email everyday isn’t helpful. I think you’ll be able to manage without me. ” Your voice remained calm, but Bruce shifted in his seat. He knew when you were getting frustrated. Your expression had a look that could make a grown man tremble. It made him a little sad. You used to be so bright, barely letting the world get to you. He sighed as he thought about how much you had hardened yourself. 

“Y/n, I’m not asking you to stop what you’re doing. Just come in for a day and check it out. See if anything looks like it could be done a better way,” He looked down at the papers on the table as he was talking, noticing the articles with little notes scribbled in the sides. The parts that were crossed out and replaced with your own horrible handwriting. He chuckled a bit. That part of you hadn’t changed. “You can tell us all the things we’re doing wrong. You’ve always been good at that.”

Against your will, you gave a small smile. You couldn’t help it. “...Will Pakerns get off my back if I do?” The bothersome doctor had been sending you about three emails a day. 

“I’ll do my best,” He answered and you dramatically groaned. 

“Oh thank _God_! Fine... I’ll think about it.” When he grinned triumphantly you held up your finger in his face. “I’m not saying I’ll do it. Maybe.” 

Maybe was good enough for him. And his smile was so goddamn contagious you couldn’t help but crack a real one too. 

“I can work with that... So, how’s the city been treatin’ you?” He knew you were out of your element in the big city, and was trying to start up a conversation. “You know if you ever get sick of it, you could come and stay at the compound for a little.” Your smile faltered, and you looked away. As you picked up another document, you did the thing you’d done for the past 6 years. 

You pushed him away. 

You cleared your throat and adjusted your ponytail. When you met his eyes again, you quickly glanced away and started going through your papers again. “... It was nice to see you, Bruce.”

He looked at you, but you kept your eyes down. When he realized that there was no chance of getting you back, he nodded and stood up. “Ok... I’ll see you later, Y/n.”

As he walked away, he compared the woman he just saw to the girl he used to know. The differences were heartbreaking. 

A person with such an air or excitement and love around her, now looked like a person who was just tired. Of everything. Bruce understood what she was doing, but he didn’t know how to fix it. As he stepped outside the café, he looked back. 

You were still there. Reading the words on a piece of paper with lifeless, robotic eyes.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Sleep is for the Weak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys really can get into some trouble with their Teammates. Bruce isn’t going to be happy about this one. Y/n is exhausted. I think that’s just part of her character traits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter One is up! This one was fun to write. Making Clint a bit of a troublemaker is just really entertaining to me, but he will probably get a taste of his own medicine soon...

_“Barton, you’re a dead man!”_

Five sets of thundering footsteps shook the walls of the Compound, with equally as loud shouts accompanying them. At the head of the line was an assassin, laughing his ass off in between screams when a pissed off Bucky, right on his tail, tried to grab him. A little behind those two were Steve, yelling for Bucky to stop, Natasha, yelling for Clint to either surrender now or run faster, and then a panting Sam, who was trailing behind and just wanted them to slow down a bit. 

Even with his fit physique, he was barely a match for two Super Soldiers and a pair of master assassins. It was understandable that he was getting tired after sprinting at top speed for the past 15 minutes. People don’t give Clint enough credit for his physical abilities, or how much balls he has. Not many people would risk pranking the Winter Soldier. 

“Give me back my arm!” Clint narrowly missed getting smashed into a wall by Bucky as he yelled. He looked over his shoulder at the deadly expression on his pursuer, and had enough sense to stop laughing and actually try to not get pulverized. Scanning around and spotting the entrance to the lab, he bolted through the doors and quickly sealed them. Tony and Bruce, who were in the middle of some sort of chemical research, looked at Clint with quizzical expressions, until they saw the metal arm hanging from his hand and the banging coming from outside. 

“Clint, what did you-“ Bruce was cut off Clint dismissively waving his hand. 

Leaning back against the wall next to the door and starting to chuckle again, he just replied, “Can I stay here for a little?”

Before either of them could answer, or tell him how much of an idiot he was, they all heard Steve shout from the hallway. “Bucky, No!”

Clint’s head narrowly missed being hit by the door as it was knocked in, with a very unhappy brunette walking in after. Clint yelped, and before Bucky could grab him or his arm, he jumped over one of the tables in the center, knocking over vials of chemicals. 

“Guys, get out of the lab!” No one really paid that much attention to Bruce’s request, as Bucky was too focused on Clint, and Clint was too focused on not being murdered. The others were still catching up. 

“Ok, ok, Bucky, listen. I’m sorry I took your arm,” While he was talking he quickly ran around to the other side of the table and Bucky began to circle him. “I’m also sorry that I ate the rest of your Girl Scout cookies! And about the shaving cream while you were napping! And about the goats!” By the time he finished with his apology, Bucky was full-blown chasing him around that lab, the two of them knocking over and destroying different equipment, tech, chemicals, and samples that were being tested as they went.

“Goats? Jesus, Clint, do you have a death wish?!?” Natasha yelled as she stepped into the lab after Steve. Sam was still catching up. 

“It was funny at the time-oh shit!” Bucky threw a punch that Clint somehow managed to duck, before scrambling backwards and starting to run around the lab again, with Bucky on his heels. 

“Bucky! Bucky, stop it!” Steve was trying to get a hold of his boyfriend before he actually did kill Clint, but managed to crash into some of the tables holding valuable samples that Bruce had been trying to get for months. “Sorry, Bruce.” He turned around to apologize to the scientist who was being comforted by Tony as he looked like he was about to have an aneurism. 

“Natasha, a little help over here!” The redhead, who up until this point had just been cackling and recording Clint screaming like a child for future blackmail, came over to help keep Bruce from turning green. “Capsicle, you might wanna get this outta here before we have bigger problems to take care of!” Tony shouted. 

“I’m trying!” In a last-ditch effort, Steve took a running leap and launched all 240 pounds of muscle at Bucky, successfully taking him to the ground with an _oomph_ , and also taking out another one of the tables. It broke into pieces with the boys’ combined weight and force, and the glass items shattered on impact. After regaining the breath that was knocked out of him, Bucky attempted to squirm out from under Steve. 

“Steve, let me up!” 

“Stop tryna kill Clint!”

“Tell him to give me back my arm!”

Bucky continued to flail on the ground until Steve managed to pin him by his neck and lower back. The ex-assassin still glared murderously at Clint, even with his face smooshed into the floor. Steve gave him a pointed look. “Clint....”

Poking his head out from behind Natasha and Bruce, Clint threw the metal appendage towards the two Soldiers. As Steve reaches out to grab it, Bucky was able to flip him over and start running towards Clint again. 

Poor Sam. He had bad timing. 

“Ok...what did I mi-“ He had finally made his way into the lab, completely winded, and staggered over to where the others were standing when Bucky came charging over. Everyone else saw him coming and ducked, but Sam was too focused on getting air into his lungs. Unfortunately for him, it put him right in the line of Bucky’s fist. 

“Sam!” Steve rushed over to help deal with Bucky again and to come check on his other friend. Natasha and Tony went to help him up from where he was groaning on the floor, but Clint was holding Bruce in front of him like a human shield. 

“Bucky, you gotta calm down, ok?” As Bucky struggled against the hold on his wrist, Steve tried to get him under control. “Sam, you good?”

“Yeah, man,” he groaned. “Doin’ fuckin’ fantastic over here.” 

The two by his side helped him up, and he wobbled in his feet. Natasha sighed and walked over to Clint, grabbed his ear, and then proceeded to drag him out of the lab. Amidst the yells of pain, he managed out, “Sorry again, Bruce!”

The scientist just stood there in shock. 

Tony glanced at Bruce and winced. He then turned to the two soldiers. “You two just- just get outta here,” he waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll deal with this, you deal with that, Rogers.” 

Steve sighed and shook his head. “C’mon, Buck.” With the grip he had on Bucky’s wrist, Steve began to pull him out of the lab. His other hand held Buck’s bionic arm. Tony led Sam towards the mini-fridge he kept in the corner and took out a bag of ice. Sam grunted in appreciation and sat down on one of the nearby stools. With one avenger taken care of, Tony made his way over to Bruce. 

“Sorry...” mumbled Bucky, as Steve shook his head again and led him towards their room. 

As the two of them made their way along the hallways in the Compound, they were silent. The air around them was extremely tense, and when they got back To their room Bucky expected Steve to chastise him. But He only sat down on their sofa and gestured towards Bucky to come closer so he could reattach his metal arm. 

Bucky sat and turned his torso so his left shoulder faced his boyfriend. As Steve worked, he glanced around the room, avoiding his boyfriend’s eyes. After a while, the tension became too much for him. 

“Ok, I know I’m an idiot, alright!” He huffed, and Steve just watched him, still silent. Bucky didn’t notice the ghost of a smile forming on the other man’s face as he continued to twist the wires and metal in his hands. “I shouldn’t have chased Clint and I shouldn’t have punched Sam. Now Bruce probably won’t speak to us anymore and I know it’s because of me. I’m an idiot, and why aren’t you lecturing me about it yet-ow!”

When Steve snapped the last parts into place it sent a shock through Bucky’s body. Steve winced. “Sorry,” he mumbled as he took his hand and ran it through Bucky’s newly cut hair. Steve liked it shorter. It reminded him of when they were younger. “Buck, I’m not gonna lecture you. You basically did that yourself anyway.”

Bucky groaned and threw his hands over his face. “Oh, God. I’m turning into you! I’m not supposed to be the boring one!” Steve just chuckled and pried his hands away. He placed a kiss on Bucky’s cheek. 

“Jerk.”

“Punk.”

The pair just sat there for a while, enjoying each other’s company. “Bruce probably won’t talk to us for a while, though.”

“Ugh.” Bucky threw his head against the back of the couch. “This is all Clint’s fault! And now I have to apologize to Sam!”

Steve chuckled again and put his arm around Bucky and pulled him closer to him. “Ya know, besides the part where you were actually going to kill Clint, the whole thing was pretty funny. Natasha was cracking up.”

“Yeah, yeah. Deranged, pissed off me destroying the lab is hilarious.”

“No, it was kinda hot though.” Bucky turned to look at Steve, and noticed his eyes were completely blown out. He slowly leaned closer to the blonde’s face. 

“Oh yeah?”

After a second he nodded and blushed in response. It always surprised Bucky how Steve always started out so shy whenever they had sex. 

He leaned in to kiss Steve’s neck, not really expecting a verbal response. 

“Yeah, but I’m glad I caught you....” Bucky looked up at Steve’s eyes. They were really goddamn pretty. 

“Why, so you can have me now? You gonna be a good boy, Stevie?” It surprised Bucky when he saw Steve chuckle. 

“Nah....” In a flash, Steve had Bucky on his back, his wrists held by his sides. “I’d just rather pin you down in here.”

Bucky let out a quiet moan and the other man smirked at him. A classic Steve smirk. He turned his head to whisper into Bucky’s ear. “So…you gonna be good for me?”

_Jesus Christ that was hot._

Well...Bucky wasn’t going to say no. 

꧁ꕥ꧂

_I don’t know... He doesn’t seem that cute to me-hey!_

꧁ꕥ꧂

The damage to the lab was pretty bad, and after making sure Bruce wasn’t going to Hulk-Out or have to be taken to the med-wing, Sam had offered to stay and help clean up. Natasha and Clint had offered to assist too, but Bruce didn’t want Clint to be near anymore of the equipment. Natasha was welcomed in though. 

Tony picked up the shattered glass on the floor, and after inspecting the contents to see if they could be saved, he threw them out. So far none were salvageable. “Banner, what was in here, anyway?”

“Uh, those were the new cancer cells and CAR-T cells. I wanted to try and do some more research on them to see if I noticed something to make the success rate higher, but I’m guessing that’s not an option now. We’ll just have to use some that one of the other guys will bring.” He rubbed his hand over his face and looked at Natasha. “You might want to clue Barton off on pulling pranks on Bucky. I don’t need any more important samples broken.”

“I’ve tried. But there’s no stopping him. He’s got the same sense of humor as a 13-year-old boy. Thinks it’s funny when he pisses people off.” She shook her head fondly and Sam scoffed. 

“Yeah, well let him know that next time _he_ can be the one to take a punch from the Winter Soldier.”

Tony tied off a trash bag and carried it by the doors. “So all of your science friends are gonna be here tomorrow?” 

“I wouldn’t call them friends, Tony,” said Bruce as he looked through one of the Petri dishes to see if the contents had leaked out, and frowned when something dripped down onto his clothes. “They’re all just acquaintances.”

“Even that one girl who you 'didn’t go on a date with’?”

Before Bruce could get a word in otherwise, Nat and Sam interjected. 

“You had a date?!?” They said at the same time. 

“Wha-no! God, no. It was definitely not a date. That’s just-no.”

“Banner, I know you say it wasn’t a date...but just hear me out. You went to go have lunch with some super-smart genius woman who you apparently have ‘some history with’ or whatever, and there’s no chance you guys couldn’t get together? I think there’s a definite possibility,” Tony pointed out. Nat and Sam nodded. 

“Yeah, Bruce. Go for it-“

He cut Natasha off with an exasperated yell. “Guys she’s my niece!”

The three went silent. “Oh... Yeah, I don’t think it’s gonna work.”

“Yeah, no shit, Tony,” said Bruce as he rolled his eyes. 

“Wait, Bruce, you don’t have any siblings.” Natasha raised one of her perfect eyebrows in question. 

“Well, she’s not actually related to me, I just knew her dad. He was a scientist, I was a scientist, we were close.”

“So is she a scientist too?”

“No, she’s a doctor. Specializes in autism, or something like that.”

“Then why do you need her on a cancer research team?”

“Because she makes all of us look like idiots.”

Natasha looked at Bruce, slightly offended, and Bruce sighed. 

“Friday, pull up the news reports with anything having to do with Y/n L/n.”

After Bruce’s command, a hologram appeared with your picture and tons of different articles and videos. Most dating to around a month or two ago. 

“‘Brilliant Young Doctor Has Discovered a Cure to Autism,’” Tony read. “Wow. She found a cure?”

“Probably not. But managing to get three kids undiagnosed and off the spectrum was bound to get the press’s attention.”

“That’s not bad. Tell the kid good job, from me.”

Bruce laughed dryly. “I would if she’d speak to me. I barely got her to agree to meet with me about coming in for a day to look at what we were doing.”

“Why’s that?” Sam asked. 

“Long story.” He reached back and scratched at his neck. “She could really help us out. The kid’s barely in her twenties and is smarter than all of the people that’ll be here tomorrow. But she wants no part of it.”

“Maybe she‘ll come around.”

“I hope so. Or I’m stuck with Pakerns by myself.”

꧁ꕥ꧂

_You really do have some weird taste in boys._

꧁ꕥ꧂

The door to your apartment creaked as you opened it. Everything was quiet except for the sound your feet made as they dragged across the floorboards. Switching on the lights, you staggered over towards the couch and flopped down face-first onto it and groaned into the cushions. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw something gray run towards you. Rolling over into your side, you were met by the face of your cat, Oracle. You named her for the white diamond in the center of her forehead that looked like she had some sort of third eye. You connected it to being able to see the future, like the oracles from Greek Myths. A lot of people question you about why you would name her that, and not many care about old Greek tales. But you were a bit nerdy and you couldn’t help it. And besides, you didn’t put it beyond the realm of possibility. Aliens have invaded Earth, a humanoid-future-telling-cat couldn’t be impossible. 

Oracle meowed and jumped onto your chest. Ignoring your _oof_ , she pawed at your breasts and settled in between them, shutting her eyes. You laughed quietly at her and scratched her head. 

“Hi, Orry. Where’s your brother?” 

At the mention of the other cat, she opened her eyes and slowly turned her head towards you, almost as if she was annoyed you’d even bring him up. She didn’t like Apollo very much yet, even though the kitten seemed to be in love with her. He barely left her alone and followed her through the apartment. 

“Alright. I’ll look for him later.”

You pulled your phone from the pocket of your scrubs and checked the time. 

12:53

You sighed and rubbed your eyes. Picking up Oracle, you carried her into your room. Luckily, nothing too gross had ended up on your clothing, so a shower could wait until morning. Inside your bedroom, you found Apollo asleep already in your unmade bed. You dropped Oracle next to him and grabbed a new pair of old clothing to sleep in. 

By the time you were finished with your nighttime routine and switched off all the lights, it was a little past 1:00. You weren’t really looking forward to waking up so early the next morning.

Scooting into bed next to the cats, you reached over to grab the remote to the T.V. from your nightstand. Putting on _Cinderella_ (the live-action version because you thought the prince was cute) you turned the volume down to almost muted, and then leaned back and shut your eyes. 

That night sleep came easy. Usually, you’d lay awake for a while thinking about all that you had to do the next day and make plans. But at that moment you were too exhausted to really do much thinking. You were dead to the world almost as soon as you pulled up the covers. 

Nightmares never really plagued you, unlike others who have serious emotional baggage. If you did fall asleep, you enjoyed your dreams. They were like an escape from the real world. There was no getting you out of your bed before your alarm went off. 

Once you fell asleep it was no different from all the other times you dreamt. Your dreams were strange, half the time they didn’t make sense. When you drifted off then, you ended up sitting in the sand next to a lake, alone. It was almost like looking through a thick fog, everything was hazy, but that wasn’t anything new. 

“I’m excited, aren’t you?” 

You turned your head to see a man who appeared next to you, although you couldn’t see his face. You didn’t answer. When you dreamt you didn’t speak much, you just watched. 

“It’s really fun. You’ll like it.” After he finished speaking, the landscape before you transformed. You were still sitting next to the man on the shore, but ahead of you was an ocean. 

“You’ve never gone before right?”

You shook your head. 

“I’m sorry I never took you with me.”

He stood up. “I’m going now.”

No footsteps sounded when he stood up, and you didn’t see him leave. 

The rest of the dream was a blur. 

꧁ꕥ꧂

_Did you miss me?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two will be up shortly, because I may have started that one before I wrote this one and then wanted to backtrack. Thanks for reading!


	3. Slipping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys have been exiled from the compound, on a reluctant adventure that quickly turns bad. Luckily, a certain doctor happens to be roaming around the streets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s finally up! I know I said I would’ve had this done a lot sooner, life has just been crazy and I wanted this one to be perfect. Enjoy!

* * *

Paramore’s _That’s What You Get_ sounded from your phone lying on the bedside table. Someone could argue that it was an odd song to choose as an alarm, but you liked it so it stayed. 

Groaning and as you opened your eyes, you started to regret your choice of a job that requires you to get up before sunrise. You stretched your arms and legs, which disturbed one of the furry masses sharing the bed with you. Oracle, who was lying curled up between your thighs, generally despised being woken up on someone else’s terms. She glanced disappointingly at you. 

“I’m sorry, did I wake you, your royal highness?” Her response was a lazy blink before she nuzzled back into your leg and shut her eyes. You snickered softly before reaching over to stop the alarm, flick on the light, and turn off the television, causing a sleepy trill to come from Apollo, whose body had been cuddled into the crook of your arm. He tried to stretch out too, but he misjudged the amount of room he had between his spot and the edge of the bed, which sent him spiraling to the floor with a yelp. 

The thud disturbed Oracle again, who begrudgingly moved to the side of the bed to rake her disapproving eyes over the kitten sprawled out on the carpet below. You picked him up and sat him back down in your lap. 

“Buddy!” He meowed and you cooed at him. “You have to be careful!” As you began to pet him, Oracle leaped off the bed and padded out of the room. She wasn’t too fond of the new member of the house yet. A half sigh half laugh fell from your lips. She was a very dramatic kitty. 

The loud, and totally obnoxious sound of Boss Ass Bitch filled the room, startling Apollo. Knowing exactly who it was, you fell back against the pillows and pushed your palms into your eye sockets. “Of course.”

Not wanting the song to go on for any longer, you snatched your phone from the nightstand and threw your other forearm over your eyes to block out the lamp’s glow. You held the phone about an inch or so from your chest and pressed the green button without really looking that closely at the screen. 

“Good morning!“ He was way too cheerful for you this morning. “Nice boobs, by the way.” You looked down and realized that you were on FaceTime with the camera aimed directly at your breasts that were spilling out from your tank top. Mumbling about how it was too early for this shit, you moved the camera up to your face and flipped him off. 

“Fuck you, Liam,” you grumbled, and he sent you a charming grin through the screen. 

“With pleasure.”

“You’re such a perv.”

“Yeah, but I’m your perv.”

You scoffed but couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Ya know, you’re not funny.”

“I’m hilarious, and you know it.”

“Whatever, what’s the surprise.”

“What makes you think there’s a surprise? Maybe I just missed your gorgeous face, couldn’t that be a possibility?”

You shook your head and smiled because no, not at this time of day. “It’s 5:30 in the morning. You don’t function until 11:00. So either you’re dying and tryna break it to me, or there’s a big surprise that couldn’t wait until I have pants on.”

“I never could get anything past you, could I?” He pretended to be annoyed for about three seconds before the facade dropped and he smiled. “Ok, fine! I got an audition for Book of Mormon!”

You shot up fast and stared at his grinning face. “What?!? Liam, that’s incredible! Did you just find out now?”

“Ah, no,” he folded his arm behind his head and looked at you apologetically. “This is technically the final callback. I’ve known for a few weeks-“

“Callback?!?” You were shocked. You two had been attached by the hip since kindergarten, how could he have kept this from you? “The biggest news of your life and you didn’t tell me this before?!?” He laughed and shook his slightly shaggy hair. 

“Surprise!”

“You dick!” Picking up Apollo from your lap, really did try to be angry, but you couldn’t help but laugh again as you walked to the bathroom. As much as you wish he told you sooner, you were extremely happy for him. “When is it?”

“Today.” You set your phone down on the vanity and gaped at him. Apollo jumped down from your arms. 

“Today?!?” By habit, your hands made their way to your hips as you stared at him condescendingly. “Liam Alexander King. You have known about these auditions for weeks, and decide to tell me hours before the last casting decision!”

He laughed at your scolding. “Calm down, Mom. I wanted to tell you, but if I did you would’ve made plans for next weekend instead of hanging out with me!”

“What?” The only issue between you and Liam being best friends was that he still had a little bit of that partying college kid in him. On the other hand, you had to grow up and learn to be responsible before the time that you could even walk. 

“Liam, I can’t go out with you this week. I’m completely booked.” The smug look on his face made you feel like he knew something you didn’t. “What did you do?”

He looked way too excited. “Ok, so I might’ve called your not-secretary and had her make sure that you had the weekend off. It was before any appointments were even scheduled.”

Never before have you wanted to slap him as much as you did at that moment. “Liam! How could you do that?!? You know I love you, but right now I can’t stop what I’m doing to go have fun! We aren’t kids anymore, and this is important! It’s not fair for my patients for me to have to stop-“

“No, it’s not fair to you that you have worked twenty-five hours a day for the past year! You have to stop throwing yourself into your work because if you keep going like this it’ll kill you. And I can’t let that happen.” 

He was concerned, you got that, but it didn’t give him the right to mess with your schedule behind your back.

“And what if you don’t get the part?” you snapped. “I just waste three days doing nothing?”

“Then we’ll eat ice cream and cry and binge-watch Friends all night. You aren’t getting out of this. You need a break.” Some part of you knew that he was only doing this because he cared, but it still really pissed you off. 

“Alright, fine. I have to go,” you said dismissively as you turned on the shower. 

“Hey!” 

You turned around and sighed. “ _What_?”

“I love you.”

He really did make it hard to be mad at him. 

Reluctantly, you answered. Only because you were raised with manners. 

“Yeah, well, you’re still an asshole... But I love you too.”

With that, you ended the call.

Apollo weaved between your legs purring from his place on the floor. You reached down and scratched his chin, before pulling away and testing the water temperature in the shower. When some of the spray got on him, Apollo ran out the door, leaving you alone with your thoughts. 

After grabbing an extra towel and stripping out of your clothes, you stepped in. The water was scalding, but you didn’t mind. 

The idea of today was exhausting. Liam was right, as strange as that idea seemed to you. You needed to take a break. Slow down. 

But you didn’t want to. 

It was silly, to think that if you ignored your problems they would just go away, and you knew that they wouldn’t. But it was better than facing them and having a mental breakdown. 

Because if you slowed down, it would mean you’d have no choice but to stop and notice the fiery inferno that was your life. 

You _could_ slow down, but you couldn’t handle the damage yet.

꧁ꕥ꧂

_I thought you’d be a better liar by now._

꧁ꕥ꧂

Being forced to wander all around New York City as errand boys for Tony Stark was not the way Steve and Bucky wanted to spend their day. 

The two had woken up to a bunch of AC/DC blasting through the speakers in their room, and then Tony telling them to “ _get their lazy asses downstairs or else_.” When they opened the elevator to the kitchen extremely discombobulated and sleepy, Tony handed them a piece of paper, told Bucky that they could see the hickey on his neck, then shoved them right back into the elevator. They ended up heading towards the garage where Happy was waiting for them. 

The paper was a shopping list, full of items that ranged from some sort of Italian coffee beans to certain flowers for Natasha’s birthday. There was no name or address for any of them, they had to wander around and hope that the store they were at sold whatever obscure merchandise Tony wanted. It was basically just a ploy to keep them out of the compound all day so no one caused a code-green while Bruce had a meeting. 

They had been dropped off somewhere in Manhattan for 30 minutes, in the rain, trying to find the directions. It was cold, wet, and Bucky was cranky as all hell. Steve practically had to drag him through the streets as he whined like a 5-year-old.

“Steve, I told you, we were supposed to turn right 5 blocks ago!”

“It’s a grid system, if we make a right here it won’t make a difference.”

“Do you even know where we are?”

“Do you?”

Bucky scuffed his foot against the ground, the action making him seem so much like a reprimanded kid that Steve couldn’t help but smile at his antics.

“...No.”

The man looked like a kicked puppy. Steve had to do something to make him somewhat happy or the day would be a living hell. 

“Look, I think that’s Central Park. Nat took me to an ice cream store right by here. I have Tony’s credit card, we might as well get something out of it.”

At the mention of ice cream, Bucky perked up immediately. Steve just rolled his eyes fondly leaned in to peck his cheek.

God, they were so in love.

The best thing by far about the 21st century was the fact that they could hold hands in public without someone even batting an eye. Kiss on a street corner and no one would care. They weren’t ostracized for their feelings, labeled freaks or shipped off to mental institutions. Of course, there was always that one asshole, but overall the two of them were accepted. 

And they were both so happy. 

The nightmares, the arguments, the all-consuming fear that one day one of them wouldn’t come home, it all paled in comparison to moments filled with overflowing adoration. Moments where the only thing Steve could focus on was the way Bucky’s eyes lit up every time he told made someone laugh or when he solved one of the crossword puzzles in the paper that Tony would save for them. Moments where Bucky can’t tear his eyes away from Steve as he sits in the window seat in their apartment and draws in his sketchbook, with a look of pure content and concentration. 

The moments where the only thing in existence was the two of them. 

“You gonna get vanilla again or try somethin’ excitin’ for a change?” 

Bucky just laughed off Steve’s teasing. “There’s nothin’ wrong with vanilla ice cream.”

“Fine, fine,” impossible as it seems, Steve’s smile got even bigger. “Be boring, see if I care.”

Love makes life worth living.

But it also makes it dangerous.

Because if the two of them weren’t so absorbed in each other, they might’ve noticed the men that had been tailing them for the past four blocks.

꧁ꕥ꧂

_Of course it was dumb, have you met me?_

꧁ꕥ꧂

Saturday had always been your favorite day of the week. 

When you were younger, you loved it because it was a day where you had no school, and didn’t have to prepare for it the next day. Now, you still loved Saturdays, but for a different reason. On Saturday, you didn’t have to wear scrubs and a lab coat and show up to the hospital an hour early. 

You took full advantage of that. 

It was early morning and raining outside, so not many people were roaming around, consequently meaning you had basically all of Central Park to yourself. Since you had an extra hour, you would usually spend it strolling around until you really did have to head into the hospital a few blocks over. 

The rain didn’t stop you that morning either, it just made it all the more inviting. You liked the rain, it was calm and peaceful. A noise you would call almost-quiet, the soft pitter-patter of the water hitting the ground. 

You usually had music playing when you went out, but on days like those, you let yourself get lost. Almost like putting your body on autopilot. Not really thinking about much, and if you were, by the time you noticed it slipped from your mind and memory. It was wonderful when it rained, it gave you a small respite from your life that seemed to play on repeat. A change of scenery.

Your days consisted of the same schedule for the past year. Wake up, work, eat when forced to, work some more, then stagger back home and crash into your bed. If anyone ever asked you why you never took a break you’d give them the same answer, you love what you do, and it’s their choice or whether or not they believe it. 

You did love what you do, of course, it just wasn’t the entire reason that you worked yourself to the brink of collapsing. 

No one needed to know that though. 

As you drifted through the park, some things caught your eye, like a duck with her babies, or some pretty flowers, but you couldn’t focus on them for long. Your body just kept moving, and your eyes would stare into the spot where an object used to be.

Nothing was interesting enough to break you from your trace, but the sound of a gunshot, on the other hand, a noise that you could never forget, got your attention real quick. 

Your head shot up and you looked around, praying that it was just your imagination, but when two more sounded near the exit a couple hundred yards in front of you, it was clear it wasn’t your mind playing tricks on you.

And against all of your better judgment telling you to _call the cops and run the other way dammit_!...you didn’t. Instead of trying to come up with an ounce of self-preservation skills, you made what was one of the dumbest decisions you’ve ever made.

You ran _towards_ the gunshots. 

It must’ve been the doctor in you, wanting to try and see who you could help. Or it could’ve been your serious lack of caring whether you got hurt yourself. Who knows.

For never being a good runner in your life, if your P.E. teacher saw you now she would probably die of shock. You sped towards the edge of the park, trying not to slip on the wet pavement. 

When you made your way out to the city streets, the scene before you was nothing like you imagined. You had seen a lot as a doctor, but you were not expecting this. 

Two figures were running down the street, but that wasn’t what caught your eye. Nor was it the blood spattered all around. Rather, it was the man in the center of it all that stopped you in your tracks. 

Looking back, you wish you hadn’t frozen. Been so completely and utterly shocked that you wasted time while someone was bleeding out onto the sidewalk, but you couldn’t help it. He wasn’t just someone. It was Captain-fucking-America, you’d recognize him anywhere. 

Captain America was the man covered in blood.

It barely made sense. Who could take down Captain America?

Then you noticed the civilian clothing. It wasn’t Captain America. It was Steve Rogers who needed to be saved.

The whole thing was God pulling some mean prank on you. 

You really wished it was someone else. Someone you didn’t have a traumatic history with. But wishing can’t change reality.

You didn’t stand there for more than a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity of you just staring stupidly at him and his stupidly perfect face that was now speckled with blood. It was only a few seconds, but they were all too agonizing. 

Pushing all your personal issues to the side and realizing that _holy shit he’s gonna die_ , you sprinted at the two of them and kneeled down. 

“Move!” When the man next to you didn’t, just kept trying frantically to put pressure against the profusely bleeding wound, you took matters into your own hands and shoved him out of the way. He felt back like he weighed nothing, but from his huge build, you guessed it was only because of the shock. 

It was easy to figure out what happened. There was a gash going across the side of his neck, which you inferred to have been caused by the gunshots you heard, and it was gushing blood all over him and you. Your guess was that his jugular was cut and that you had a very small time window to get him to a hospital. 

“Ok, ok, ok,” you repeated to yourself. It was a total lie to say you weren’t panicking. It was enough pressure to have someone’s life in your hands, but so much worse when you know the odds are horrible. Not to mention he was a national icon. A superhero. Granted, the situation could’ve been worse. He could’ve had his entire jugular blown off, which would have given him such little time that he would’ve been dead on the ground already. But still, it was an awful feeling to be the deciding factor between life and death.

Quickly, you patted down your jean pockets for a tissue, a loose piece of cloth, anything that you could use to press against the wound, but found nothing. With no other option, you pulled your blouse over your head and balled it up, and then pushed it against his neck.

“Who the fuck are you?!?”

You looked over your shoulder at the other man and realized who he was. The Winter Soldier looked at you with a burning, yet terrified, gaze, one that you witnessed too often. A look of outrage, an attempt to hide fear and heartbreak, but the tears always gave them away. Any other person may have flinched, but only a quarter of you was paying attention to him and it wasn’t enough to make you afraid. Besides, he didn’t look like he was in any position to hurt you. He didn’t look like a super-assassin. He just looked human. Vulnerable. 

“I’m a doctor,” you answered, feeling around the body for any other sign of bleeding. “If you want him to live call an ambulance, now!”

He didn’t move, just stared at Steve like he was hallucinating. Exasperated at the situation and that he of all people wasn’t responding to an emergency fast enough, you turned around and growled, “He’s gonna _die_ unless you move your ass!”

Your words seemed to resonate with him and he fumbled in his pockets for his phone. With your attention back on Steve, you prayed that you were doing the right procedure and silently thanked your professor for telling you to take that EMT course in college. Blood pooled in his mouth and he was soaked from the rain, but he wasn’t choking or unconscious which you took as a good sign. As you studied the rest of him, you felt something tap your shoulder. It was his hand. You turned your head to back up to his face to find him trying to speak, but it was more like gurgling.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok. Don’t talk, ok?” You smiled shakily down at him. “We’re gonna get you fixed up, you just gotta stay still for me .”

The sound of sirens could be heard coming closer in your direction. He really did get lucky, getting shot so close to a hospital. It wasn’t long before the paramedics were unpacking a stretcher and setting it down next to you. 

“Dr. L/n?” A paramedic you recognized as Amber was kneeling down next to you. “I’m going to need you to remove your hand.”

You nodded. As soon as you lifted it up she placed her own hand where yours was as the others around her moved to get him on a stretcher. 

Behind you, Bucky still hadn’t moved from the position that you last saw him in. He was probably in worse shock than Steve was in. You crouched in front of him and held his damp cheeks in your palms while the paramedics moved back into the ambulance. 

“Hey, look at me, look at me.” He was hyperventilating, and you really didn’t want another emergency to take care of. “You gotta breathe, he’ll be ok. But if you pass out right now you won’t be there after he wakes up from surgery.”

Were you entirely sure that Steve Rogers was going to survive surgery? No, not at all. But you’ve noticed that when people close to patients start to panic it was best to stay positive or else they’ll end up in a hospital bed too. 

Bucky started shaking his head back and forth violently as he continued to cry and tried to stand up. “I gotta-I’ve gotta go with him! I’ve gotta go!” With the hiccups and stuttering, it was hard to comprehend what he was saying, but you figured it out as the ambulance pulled away. You shook your head and gently pushed him so he was sitting down on the sidewalk. 

“They wouldn’t have let you ride with him anyway,” you told him softly. “You have gotta breathe for me, ok? You two have seen much worse than this, you can make it through. But right now you gotta calm down.”

You took some exaggerated breaths in and out and he copied you. Once his breathing was better, you gave him a small smile and wiped his cheeks. “Good. Can you stand?” He nodded, and you pulled him to his feet. “The hospital is right by here. If you can run, great, if not, then we can slow down.” He gave you another unsure nod before you grabbed his hand and started running. 

It wasn’t fast, and you knew that you both could’ve easily gotten there in half the time if he had his wits about him and you weren't making sure he didn’t slip and crack his head open. 

It really does go to show how much worse it is to watch someone you love die than to be the one dying. 

“Wait, h-here.” He let go of your hand to unzip his sweatshirt and hand it to you. You had barely noticed that you were only wearing a bra.

“Oh, thank you.”

You shrugged it over your shoulders and kept going, and Bucky started to pick up the pace. You still kept up though. Your P.E. teacher would’ve been so proud. 

“H-how did you do that?”

“I told you,” he still heard your yell against the wind, “I’m a doctor.” 

꧁ꕥ꧂

_Ya know, there’s a reason I can’t stand him._

_You’ll get over it. You always do._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would say chapter 4 will be up soon but I don’t want to jinx myself like last time. Hopefully it won’t take me as long!


	4. Bang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the attack and a glimpse into the readers day to day life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry for how long it has taken me to update! I started working on this chapter after the last one was published, and then life got so crazy that it was put on the back burner. Anyway, I ended up rewriting it like 10 times, so I’m happy with how it turned out. I have a new respect for authors now. Writing is very difficult! I just want everyone to know that the story will NOT be abandoned. Some chapters may just take longer to come out than others. I hope you enjoy this one!

If you asked Bucky what happened between the edge of the park and one of those plush bench thingies in a hospital, he honestly couldn’t tell you. He felt like he was underwater. Helpless and drowning, suffocating every time he gasped for air. Everything was muffled and blurry.

He couldn’t feel his hands and he couldn’t feel his feet. His body practically felt like it was vibrating. Pictures of Steve flashed through his mind. 

_Steve_.

Then he remembered. Steve was dying and it was all his fault. Something grabbed a hold of him, and started tugging him down into the deepest horrors of his mind. No matter how hard he fought, he didn’t stand a chance. 

Flickers of memories lit up in the dark corners of his brain, of Steve, of his life, and then he thought that maybe he deserved it. He deserved every demon that lingered in his head. Bucky created them. He was one. 

As he sunk lower and lower, he gave in. 

And then something warm was wrapped around him. Rather, a someone. They gently swayed their body back and forth, rocking him like his mother used to do when he was upset. It was a familiar feeling, a touch he subconsciously leaned into. It felt like someone thrust a hand into the murky depths, trying to pull him back up.

Hands on his back rubbed in soothing circles, and a soft voice whispered something into the crook of his neck. 

It took a couple minutes for him to register that he was sobbing, and a couple more to actually hear what the voice was telling him. 

“ _Deep breaths, ok? Just breathe_.”

As best he could, he tried to even out his breathing. It was still wracked with sobs and shallow intakes of air, but it gave him some feeling back into his body. 

For minutes, someone held him. Someone that was not Steve. Someone, who he could see his metal arm, and wasn’t afraid.

Normally, Bucky wasn’t very happy with random people coming up and touching him, much less holding him. But right now, it felt so good to have someone there.

“St-Steve,” he hiccuped. The person, a woman, shushed him. 

“He’ll be fine.”

“I-I c-couldn’t-” the woman cut him off. 

“I know. It’s ok.”

Bucky’s sobs came back with a vengeance, and the arms around him held him tighter. Only when his cries we reduced to small sniffs, did they pull away. 

Bucky wiped his eyes with his hand. 

“You’re t-that lady. The one w-who saved him.”

You nodded, and then handed him a box of tissues from the little table beside you. “Here.”

“Are you going to be ok if I go make a call?” You asked. 

He nodded, and you squeezed his hand before you walked away. 

꧁ꕥ꧂

_It’s not your fault if he dies._

_It’s my fault if I don’t scream for you loud enough._

꧁ꕥ꧂

“Bruce.”

“Y/n? What’s wrong?”

“Rogers is in the hospital.”

His name tasted dry on your tongue. Steve Rogers. American Golden Boy. Hero. Avenger. You preferred names such as “History’s Greatest Asshole” or “Captain Dick” or (Liam’s personal favorite) “The Gereatric Bastard.” Sometimes “Cunt” was the most fitting title.

Regarding your opinion on the man out of time, it was safe to say you despised him.

“What?!?”

“Someone shot him. Barnes is out here with me. Cap’s in the OR.”

Bucky Barnes, on the other hand, you had no issue with. You’d never met him before. And he didn’t seem like the murderous assassin the media made him out to be. Seeing him so distraught broke your heart. 

“Oh God, ok. Let me get Tony.” You heard rustling on the line, some muffled speaking, before he addressed you again. “Ok, we’re sending people over to transfer him to the compound now.”

“One of your guys needs to get Barnes. He’s...shaken.” 

You rocked yourself on your heels as you waited for Bruce’s response, and glanced at Bucky's slumped form down the hall. It was a horrible feeling, to watch someone in so much anguish and not know what to do to help them.

“Sam and Nat are on their way. Ten minutes tops.”

Not bothering with a reply, you hung up. Walking back over to the bench, Bucky didn’t seem to notice when you sat down next to him. He kept his head down, not really looking at anything. His face glistened in the horrible hospital light from all the tears. 

You knew what he was feeling right now. That pain, the horrible, tormenting pain that you can’t run away from, that burns through your skin and your bones. 

You understood. But hell if you knew what to do.

God forbid you screwed up and made it worse. Earlier you had no idea if giving him a hug could make his panic attack even more severe with all the trauma he’s accrued in his life. You figured touching him was better than sitting by and letting him pass out from hyperventilating. It ended up helping, but that was pure luck. 

This usually never happened. Knowing what to say was always a talent of yours. But now, you were at a complete and utter loss for words.

“Your teammates are coming. They’ll take him back to your guys’ place.”

If he heard you, he didn’t acknowledge what you said. 

“Do...do you wanna talk about it? Or anything? Just to take your mind off it?” You assumed he’d decline. Not many people are into talking about traumatic experiences. When he shook his head in response you weren’t surprised. “Yeah, I’m sorry that was a dumb question.... Do you want me to go?”

When he didn’t answer right away, you stood up to leave. But before you could, a hand grabbed yours. “No.” You met his eyes, rimmed in red. His voice was raspy, but still clear. “Can you stay?.... Please?” He said it so softy, almost like he was afraid you’d turn around and laugh at him. Instead, you sat right back down next to him. 

“I just-“ he let go of your hand and looked away. “I just don’t want to be alone right now.” His voice gave out on the last couple words, but you understood. More than he knew. 

Hesitantly, hoping you weren’t making a horrible mistake, you grabbed his right hand. It was the only thing that you could think of that could somehow offer him a little bit of support. Let him know that he wasn’t sitting there alone with his demons. Because that sucks ass.

“I get it.”

He gripped your hand back tightly.

꧁ꕥ꧂

_Will you just talk to me? I don’t understand!_

_How could you understand?!? You’re never around anymore! I have to live with this everyday of my goddamn life!_

꧁ꕥ꧂

Now, Bucky was convinced that you were an angel. If there was a God up there like his Ma always told him, then he must’ve sent you to him. 

Most people were terrified of him, but for some reason you weren’t. You willingly reached out to touch him, help him. You felt safe. Kinda like how Steve did, but different. 

Steve loved him. Stood by him through the ups and downs. You were just some kind stranger, who happened to save his boyfriend’s life and offer him a shoulder to cry on. That wasn’t a common occurrence, especially in his line of work.

“I filled out most of the paperwork when we got here, so once he's finished you won’t need to worry about anything.”

Your actions confused him. He didn’t understand why you were there, sitting next to him, offering him solace. You didn’t owe him anything.

_Why the fuck is she helping me?_

Apparently, that thought made its way onto his lips. You smiled and blew a stray strand of hair from your face that had escaped your ponytail. “Because you needed help. And I know how much worse it is to be on this side of the operating room.”

Well, wasn’t that vague. 

“How long until he’s outta there?”

“Depends. Probably 2 hours. Dr. Valdeo is great though, so it might even be a little less.”

Bucky nodded. 

“You love him, don’t you?”

He wasn’t prepared for the question, but knew the answer. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Bucky looked at you. Your eyes were glassy, and you smiled. 

“That’s nice.”

After that, the two of you sat in silence. Bucky thought that your comment was a little strange, but he shrugged it off. You held his hand until Sam and Nat came barreling down the hallway, Sam almost falling flat on his face in the process. Bucky laughed at that, and you took the opportunity to slip away without anyone noticing. 

Nat crushed him in a hug, pushing an _oomph_ from his chest. 

“God, man. Can’t leave you guys along for two seconds or somethin’ bad happens.”

Bucky chuckled dryly at that. Nat pulled away and placed her hands on his jaw in order to inspect his face. 

“I’m fine, Nat.”

She didn’t respond, only frowned and stepped back. 

“Did you get a look at the guy?” Sam asked. 

“No. Wasn’t really paying attention. Had more important issues.”

“Kinda ballsy, don’t ya think? To attack an Avenger out in the open, where anyone could see.”

Nat clicked her tongue. “Whoever he was, he was either incredibly stupid or incredibly powerful.” She glanced at her phone for the time. “I’m gonna go find us some coffee. We’re gonna be here awhile.”

Sam thanked her and sat down. “You sure you're ok, man?”

Bucky wasn’t listening, finally noticing your absence. He surveyed the hallway for any trace of you, only to find none. 

“What are you looking for?”

“The doctor. She was right here.”

“She probably had to duck out. Look, what happened? You look shaken up and the only time you get shaken up is when something really bad happens.”

“I-“ It was like the air in his lungs got caught in his throat, his body begging him not to say the words out loud.“I almost lost him, Sam. If she hadn’t been there Steve would be dead.”

The possibility of Steve dying was one Bucky grew up with. The fact that he made it to 25 years old was a miracle. He was so vulnerable, so sickly and small. 

And then suddenly, he wasn’t. 

After he became Captain America, Steve was the strongest man on Earth. Ten men could attack him at once and he’d be the only one to walk away. When he was focused on his mission, nothing could stop him. After a punch, he always got back up.

It would be some sick poetic bullshit if the thing to take him down was a bullet while he wasn’t fighting. 

Swinging his arm around Bucky’s shoulders, Sam gave him a tiny squeeze. “He’s gonna be ok.”

Thanks to you. 

꧁ꕥ꧂

_Do you hate him?_

_Yes.... No.... It varies._

_He loves you._

_I don’t care._

꧁ꕥ꧂

“There you are!” Reagan all but ambushed you as you stepped into your diagnostics room.

You had the luxury of designing your own workspace when they started funding your team. Two rooms made up your department: the diagnostic room, and the exam room, fondly referred to the playroom. The diagnostic room looked a little bit like someone mixed a living room with an office. A table sat off to the side with chairs, and a huge whiteboard sat on one wall. Along with actual medical whatnot, it was common for a doodle or two to be up there. Under the windows was a couch and charging station, with a bookshelf and a lamp next to it. The entry door and half the wall it was on was made of glass, and next to that was a dark colored counter with a white top. It was a little fancy, but you opted for that instead of having your own office. 

“Where have you been?!? You haven’t missed a day of work in a year, and you didn’t answer your phone! We had to deal with Mrs. Luagen by ourselves, who then walked out with Mikey when she saw you weren’t here. And then we saw the ambulances come in from Central Park and thought you were dead! Don’t scare us like that!”

The frantic gestures he made as he berated you made you smile. He was a ball of nerves but it was endearing. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“In that case, don’t go near the OR.”

The voice came from behind you. Dre leaned against the doorframe to the exam room, a playful expression on his face. 

“What’s got you all excited?” You asked, crossing yourself arms over your chest.

“A little birdy told me that a certain supersolder is currently under the weather, and you know how I hate to see you in a bad mood.” 

That was a complete lie. Dre loved to get you in a bad mood. In a loving manner of course.

You met him when you were at med school, and when you were asked to build yourself a team, he was the first one you called. 

To acknowledge his statement, you hummed and walked over to the keurig on the counter. 

“What?” Reagan had recently graduated, and was no doubt brilliant, but sometimes was out of the loop with the things you and Dre discussed since you had only known each other a couple of months. 

“Don’t pay attention to him, Reagan,” you said. “You know it only makes it worse.”

A pair of arms wrapped around you from behind as you put the coffee pod in. “You wanna know what’s interesting, honey bunch?”

“Oh I’d love for you to tell me, darling.”

Dre tucked his chin into the crook of your neck. “This isn’t your sweatshirt. To save myself the pain of thinking you’ve moved on from me, I’ll say that this isn’t a new boyfriend’s.”

“How could I find anyone better than you?”

“That’s exactly my thought process! So, paired with the blood on your face, I’ll be willing to bet that you were the one who saved Captain Rogers’ life.”

A gasp sounded as you wiped your face with the borrowed sweatshirt’s sleeve. “Captain Rogers?!? As in, Avenger, super hot, 1940’s Captain Rogers?!? He’s in the hospital?!?” You rolled your eyes at Reagan’s fangirling. 

“Yep, he was shot in the jugular.” Dre explained. Regain gaped. 

“Reagan, don’t get yourself all worked up. He’s really not all that special in person,” you said.

“How would you know, the only time you’ve met him is today, and he was probably half unconscious!”

You didn’t answer, focusing on making your coffee. Dre pulled away. 

“Oh my God, have you met him before?!?”

“They have quite a lovely history, Reag, and I’m sure she’d like to tell you all about it!” Dre was smiling like an idiot.

Bastard. 

Questions started firing out of Reagan’s mouth at a rapid speed. What was he like, was he nice, he always looked nice, was he charming, did he call you doll like they did back in the forties, amongst others. You stiffened. Dre noticed. 

Before Reagan could ask anymore questions, Dre cut him off. “Hey kid. Can you do me a favor and find out where Cait went?”

“Oh, yeah sure.” 

Once he was gone, Dre spun your body around to face him. 

“Hey, did I go too far?”

“No, no it’s fine.” 

In truth, it wasn’t. You knew he could probably see it by the way you wouldn’t look him in the eye. He didn’t mean to hit a nerve, so you were just going to let it slide. He, evidently, was not.

“No, it’s not. Shit, Y/n, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Dre, it’s fine. You were just messing around.”

“Doesn’t make it ok. Are you ok? That must’ve been hard to see him.”

“What was I gonna do, leave him there to die? He might be like that but I’m not.” Dre meant well, but he was starting to get aggravating. 

You took a breath to calm yourself. “...It’ll be six years in a few weeks…. Just a little rough, you know?”

“Are you gonna take off?”

“And have nothing to distract myself with? No way.”

“Maybe you should go visit your family.”

You shook your head. “No. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Cait is gonna have a bird if she finds out about your shit coping mechanism. You really need to deal with this.”

The team’s psychologist, Cait, who would no doubt know something was wrong and try to psychoanalyze it out of you. 

You didn’t like people up in your business. First Liam and now Dre. They meant well, but you were getting sick of it. 

“It’s not a fucking coping mechanism, it’s being a responsible adult. I can’t take off just because I’m a little sad,” you hissed. 

Grabbing your coffee, you slipped out of his grip and made your way to the exam room. 

“Y/n-“

“C’mon, Dre. Let’s get to work. Are these guys new?”

He sighed. “Yeah, Matteo Pesci, five years old. They thought he was deaf until he became responsive a couple years ago. Got ‘em evaluated, met the criteria for moderate Asperger’s and autism. Now he’s having violent outbreaks at school and at home.” He handed you the file as you sat down. You sifted through it to see if there was any additional information about the kid.

The exam room had another table, with comfy chairs on both sides. Most of your patients seemed to like those better. The walls were light blue like in the diagnostic room, and a big flatscreen TV was hung up across from an actual exam table. A walk in closet held a bunch of other equipment.

“Alrighty. How long do we have until they’re here?”

“Reagan moved up their appointment, so they’ll be here any minute.”

“Where’s Cait?”

“She’s busy flirting with Kevin from the pediatric ward.”

“Ah, the infamous Kevin. I’ve heard about that one. Keep an eye on that. We may be hearing wedding bells soon. And speaking of hearing, tell anyone in the hallway that it’s gonna get loud in here. I need to break out the drums”

“We have drums?”

“Of course we have drums!” You said as you opened up the closet.

Stumbling over all the toys and gadgets thrown around, you found the bass drum hidden in the corner. You smiled at Dre excitedly when you brought it out. 

“What kind of doctor would I be if I didn’t have drums?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hopefully the next part is out soon! Feedback is always welcome and appreciated! It’s so nice to hear what you all think of the story so far.


	5. Remember Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/n's doctoring has been interrupted by a certain genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, and Steve's high on painkillers. Also, bad guys, yay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait again. This chapter seems a little more chopped up than others, but after this everything should start to be pretty put together. Also, a flashback chapter will soon be added either next chapter, or right after, so some of our lovely mysteries will be uncovered. Just as a note, there are some things retaining to autism and other disorders that will be mentioned in this chapter and others, and I just want to reiterate that the medical side of this story is purely for the reader's character, and plays into her backstory and the events that happened six years prior. It isn't going to be a main focus of the story. I know that I am playing with sensitive topics and if you are not comfortable no stress, but I am making things as accurate as I can. Anyway, I hope you enjoy Steve in this chapter.

People wonder why others don’t like going to see a doctor. I guess they don’t mind being poked and prodded at with pointy objects by some dude in a white coat with the personality of a brick, in a room that smells like the inside of an OxiClean bottle.

Surprising, I know, but not everyone loves that type of experience. Yourself included.

The whole point of your office looking more like a living room than a medical facility was to eliminate the feeling of trepidation that most of your patients experience. Especially since many of them were little kids. If they were comfortable, the appointment would go smoother for all parties involved.

Hence, the drums.

Not long after you and Dre finished setting up the instrument, a nurse came knocked on the door. Behind her, an anxious family shifted. The little boy clutched his mother’s hand as they shuffled in. They scanned the room, and the frightened look on the boy’s face made your heart ache.

“Hi there! I’m Dr. L/n. You must be Mr. and Mrs. Pesci.” Mr. Pesci whispered a greeting to you as you shook their extremely sweaty hands. “It’s very nice to meet you. And you must be Matteo!” You crouched down to the boy’s level, but he stepped behind his mom’s legs.

“I’m sorry, I think we’re all just a little nervous to be here,” Mrs. Pesci said. She tried to discreetly wipe her palm on her yoga pants, but you noticed. “The last doctor we saw- it just didn’t go well.”

You stood back up and smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I get it, not many people are thrilled about spending their Saturday at the hospital.” You gestured to Dre. “This is Dr. Skitters, he’s going to go over some things with you guys. And while he does that, I’d like to show Matteo something, if that’s ok with you.”

When he heard his name, Matteo tried to hide even more of his body. Mrs. Pesci looked at you, a little embarrassed. “He’ll only go if I come.” 

“That’s fine. It’s right over here.” You waved it off and led the two of them over to the drums while Dre introduced himself to Mr. Pesci. 

As they walked over, Matteo didn’t exactly pull away from the direction he was being guided to, but he had to be tugged a bit. His gaze wandered, not staying on one spot for very long. You started to speak even though you knew he wasn’t totally listening.

“I had these drums lying around, and I wanted to see if you’d like to play with them. You just take the sticks, and then you tap the drum, like this,” you explained.

As soon as the first sound came out, Matteo’s eyes locked on your movement. He was interested. Good. “Would you like to try?”

“Yes please,” he responded, and his mother stared at you dumbstruck as he moved behind the drums.

“He’ll never answer strangers,” she murmured. Matteo began to slowly bang around randomly on the drums, just testing out what sounds would come from what, and he smiled, then bounced a little on his toes. 

“Here, can you try this one, Buddy?” You asked, and then beatboxed the _We Will Rock You_ beat. It took him a second, but soon Matteo had it going, albeit a little shakily. But nonetheless, it was there.

Mrs. Pesci made a noise like she was having a seizure. “He-he’s never been able to follow a direction like that.”

You shrugged. “He’s been able to. He just didn’t receive it in a way that made him want to follow through with it. Sometimes people just need a little push to do things we could’ve done the entire time.” Mrs. Pesci sat down on the couch and took out her phone to record the scene in front of her. 

“Everyone’s brain works differently. Mine is different from yours, and yours is different from Matteo’s. Think of a computer a hundred times more powerful. The way our wires connect makes us who we are. Sometimes we have a glitch or two, but that doesn’t mean we’re broken.”

Dre and Mr. Pesci were staring at you as well. You just shrugged. “Besides, I heard he had some violent outbreaks, and this gives him a way to bang on stuff without getting into trouble. Now Mrs. Pesci, do you have a record-“

Your question was interrupted abruptly when the door swung open. Cait scurried in, apologizing under her breath. She grabbed your arm, and began to pull you out the door. “I just need to borrow Dr. L/n for a moment. We’ll be right back with you.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but you were forcibly tugged from the room before anything could come out. Cait slammed the door once the two of you were outside, and you were surprised at how much strength she had for such a tiny girl. Cait was about 5 feet tall and around 100 pounds, but she emanated a sort of _I_ can _and_ will _mess you up_ energy.

“Cait, what the hell?!? You can’t just pull me from an appointment-“

“Tony Stark is here!”

“… come again?”

Well shit.

Ok, so you didn’t like Captain America. Tony Stark, however, was in a very different boat. While you didn’t hate him, it wasn’t like the two of you left off on very good terms the last time you saw each other.

“I was coming back from the pediatric ward, and I ran into Curstin, right, and she’s all like, ‘ _Oh hey, Milendos, can you do me a favor and go grab L/n and tell her to meet me in my office as soon as possible?’_ And I’m all like, ‘ _Oh yeah, ‘course,’_ ‘cause what else am I gonna say to the hospital administrator. But then who comes up behind me, and walks into the elevator with Curstin, but _Tony-frickin’-Stark_ himself!”

Cait tended to speak faster when she got worked up, so her words were more or less a giant jumble, but you got the gist of it. 

She was excited, as normal people would be, at the idea of you meeting Tony Stark, so even if it wasn’t her, she could live vicariously through you. And what reason did she have to not be thrilled?

Dre was the only person who knew about your life, like really knew about it. You can chalk that up to five years ago when you met the bottom of a whiskey bottle. Cait knew the skin deep version, the outer layer of the trauma that followed you like a lost puppy.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Go on! We can handle the patients!” She shoved you in the direction of Curstin’s office, and you realized you had no choice. It’s not like you could deny your boss. 

The only thing you could do was pray that a certain billionaire didn’t remember you.

꧁ꕥ꧂

_Y/n stop, you don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t mean this-_

_I mean every goddamn word!_

꧁ꕥ꧂

Normally, you were a very outgoing person. Nerves hardly got to you anymore, because you didn’t care enough to let them. But as you quietly knocked on Curstin’s office, you wanted to run away and hide and not come back out until Tony Stark was far, _far_ away. Once you heard the, “ _come in,”_ though, you knew you had nowhere to go. Taking a deep breath and squaring your shoulders, you opened the door.

The last time you had seen Tony Stark you had said some not-so-nice words to him. And now you had no idea if it was going to come back and bite you in the ass. Because if he wanted to, he could probably get you fired. And everything you spent the last six years trying to achieve would go down the toilet.

“Dr. L/n, thank you for coming,” Curstin said as she stood up from her desk to greet you. And low and behold, sitting on the chair ahead of you was Mr. Stark himself.

And he _definitely_ remembered you.

When he saw you, his jaw dropped. He quickly recovered though, and his face went back into a calm and collected facade. “L/n, this is Mr. Stark. He wanted to meet you.”

Internally, you were freaking out. You had already met Tony. And you had no idea if this was some sort of joke at your expense. _Hey guys, let’s go see the doctor have a nervous breakdown! It’ll be fun._

This was not fun.

But Tony made no impression that he was planning on telling Curstin about the last time you two saw each other. He extended his hand, a gesture that looked normal for a first greeting, but his eyes held a billion questions.

You hoped that you were keeping up a good enough appearance as you took a hold of his hand. “It’s nice to meet you as well.” You needed an escape plan, and fast. The quicker this went, the better. “Dr. Curstin, I don’t mean to be rude, but I have patients waiting for me. What was it that you needed me for?”

“Well, your patients might have to wait a little longer.” She made a face at you, silently screaming _this is important do not screw this up._

“The report from the EMTS about Captain Rogers’ incident claims that you were the first one at the scene, yes?”-you nodded at Curstin’s words. “-Well because of this, you saved the Captain’s life, and as a thank you, Mr. Stark will be donating 15 million dollars to the hospital.”

Now it was your turn to be shocked. “Are you serious?”

“There does happen to be a quid pro quo,” Tony interjected. “You met with Bruce Banner last week to discuss you joining his study on cancer cells, right? I know I’m right, and I also know that you basically told him no. Come back to the meeting at the Compound today, and I’ll add in another 5 million.”

Curstin made a sound like she was dying. “I’m sure Dr. L/n won’t have a problem with that.”

You did. You absolutely did. But what could you say? On the one hand, _20 million dollars_. On the other hand, you really didn’t want to be stuck with the Avengers. 

So you gaped, not knowing how to refuse. Fortunately or unfortunately for you (you hadn’t decided yet), Tony didn’t wait for your answer. “Could you give me and Dr. L/n a moment?”

“Of course.” Curtin hurriedly made her way to the door.

You didn’t want her to leave, you wanted to leave. But it looked like you were trapped. Tony sat down on the edge of Curstin’s desk and studied you. 

“I didn’t know you had a last name.”

You couldn’t help the little tilt that came to the corner of your mouth. “You never asked.”

“Fair, but I didn’t know that your first name wasn’t Y/n/n either.”

Oh yeah, that must’ve been left out in the several months that you lived with him.

“Yeah well,”-you shrugged. “-didn’t seem too important at the time.”

Nice recovery.

Tony drummed his fingers on the wood. “… You know, Bruce never told us what happened to you. I tried to look into it, but it was like you never existed to begin with. None of us knew what happened to you or where you went. You just left one day and never came back. I mean Cap was beside himself for weeks-“

“Don’t,” you cut him off. You didn’t want any guilt messing with your head. 

But he pushed on, walking forward to stand closer to you. “Kid, you stayed with us for months and one day you just vanished! Screamed at us that you hoped we burned in Hell and then ran out the front door. You can’t expect me to not wonder why!”

“I’m sorry, ok!”

“I didn’t want an apology, I just-“ he paused, then looked at you dead in the eyes like he was looking for something. Then he gently grabbed you by the shoulders. “I just wanted to know that you were ok.”

You weren’t. 

“Just come to the Compound today. After that you never have to see us, me, Bruce, whoever ever again. Just give us one more chance.”

It was annoying how genuine he sounded. Tony and you were very close when you lived at the Tower with them six years ago. He was almost like a cool older brother of a sort. And you would be lying if it wasn’t a role that you yearned for in your life. Or if you said you didn't miss him. 

“Ya know, I’m pretty sure that this is called bribery,” you mumbled. 

“It is.”

“Not like you’re above the law or anything.”

“Of course not.”

You rolled your eyes. “ _Fine_ ,” you said, stringing out the word. “But that extra five million better go into neurology.”

Tony grinned and patted your shoulders. “I’ll make it ten.”

_Ok Y/n, this is fine. Besides, it’s not like I have to meet the rest of the team besides Bruce and Tony._

Haha, yeah no. “I’ll let the team know that you’re coming. They missed you, Kid. We all did.”

You stiffened. Not like you can get out of it now.

_Well shit._

꧁ꕥ꧂

_Steve Rogers._

_Y/n/n._

_Well, Y/n/n, it looks like I’ll be seeing you around._

꧁ꕥ꧂

It was really hot. That was the first thing that Steve noticed. He was usually hot, partly because his body and Bucky’s ran at higher temperatures than normal people, and partly because the two of them hated to be cold. Oh that pesky thing called PTSD.

But right now, Steve was uncomfortably hot, to the point where the next thing he noticed was the sticky feeling of damp blankets on his skin, practically adhering themselves with his sweat.

He wasn’t sure if anyone was in the room with him, but opening his eyes felt like too much work at the time. He figured he’d ask anyway.

“Can someone…can someone turn the air conditioning on?”

The third thing Steve noticed was how his brain felt like it was taken out, shaken up, and then screwed back in the wrong way. His words sounded slurred and barely intelligible, and his mouth felt like it was full of cotton. Fleetingly, he wondered if it was how Bucky felt whenever Hydra wiped him. Then the thought started to give him a headache, and he let it fly away for the time being. 

“Steve?” He _mmphed_ in response. “Shit, Steve, are you awake?”

That was Bucky. And as much as he didn’t want to, Bucky was worth opening his eyes for. Slowly, Steve looked around the room. Bucky was sitting next to him, holding his hand and gazing back at him, and Steve noticed his bloodshot eyes.

Steve pulled his hand away from Bucky’s and was planning on reaching out to gently stroke his cheek and ask him why he had been crying. But his executive functioning must’ve not been working right, because it came out as him smacking palm over Bucky’s entire face and mumbling, “Cryin’.”

The action made Bucky start to chuckle, and then it started to escalate into full-blown laughter, so hard that a few tears fell out of Bucky’s eyes. The sound of it made Steve smile. He loved Bucky’s laugh.

It died down when a few minutes went by, and after Bucky did turn on the air-conditioning and get some new not-sweat-soaked blankets the two of them went back to holding hands.

“Wha’ ‘appened?” Steve slurred. “I want’d ice cream. Where’d it go?”

“Right now we’re at the Compound. You were shot, remember?”

“Oh.” Now he did. It hurt. Steve did not recommend it.

“You also broke your left arm and some ribs because of how you fell. Maybe a concussion, but Dr. Cho said that the serum will probably take care of that pretty quickly so we shouldn’t worry.”

“D’ I get a metal arm? We can match, Buck.”

Bucky smiled. “No, but you got a nice lookin' cast.”

Huh. Steve turned his head to the other side and saw the blue cast keeping his arm bent at 90 degrees that he didn’t know what there. “’S blue.”

“Yeah, Punk. Thought it would match your uniform.”

Steve heard a knock at the door and turned lethargically to see Nat step in.

“Naaaaat,” he made grabby hands with his good hand and she grinned as she came to stand next to him. 

“How ya feelin’, Big Guy?”

“‘M fine.”

“You were shot,” said Bucky.

“’t’s fine.”

Bucky shook his head. “The hospital had to give him a lot of anesthesia to put him out, and he’s hopped up on painkillers, so he’s a little loopy.”

“No I’m not,” Steve whined.

“Ok baby.”

“Aww, Steve,” Natasha leaned over to rub his shoulder. Steve was trying to pay attention to her, but his eyelids had started to droop again. 

“Cho said he should be able to get out of here in a few hours. The cast’ll stay on for a week or so.”

“Well that’s good,” Nat murmured. “Sam and I tried to track down the guys, but they didn’t leave a trail. No cameras or anything else around either.”

“There has to be something…” The rest of what Bucky said had started to fade out, but before he fell back asleep, Steve heard Nat say one more thing.

“I’m not sure about if he’ll be up to it, but Tony had wanted us to meet someone down at the lab. Something about a doctor…”

_Meet a doctor?_ He thought. _I wonder why?_

Sleep, however, was more pressing than thoughts.

꧁ꕥ꧂

_Hey Steve?_

_Yes?_

_You’ve been in love before, right?_

꧁ꕥ꧂

“So what you mean to say, is that you failed.”

“S-sir, we would’ve had them. If it wasn’t for the interference-”

“What interference?”

Of course. There was an excuse as to why they failed.

The job was simple. Bring in the Winter Soldier. If possible, Captain America, but if he had to die, it was no biggie. But somehow, his men managed to fuck it up.

“What,” the man slowly began, gritting his teeth. “Could have possibly have gotten in the way?”

“It was a girl.”

_A girl?_ Interesting.

“And do you know who this girl is?” The man pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Y/n L/n.”

_Y/n L/n_. Well, the man certainly remembered that name. He smiled to himself. This job was about to get a lot more exciting.

He still had a job to do. The Winter Soldier and Captain America were still out there. 

And you know what they say.

If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.

꧁ꕥ꧂

_No one would ever love me enough to die for me._

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and feedback are appreciated and welcomed.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapters will probably be a little longer in the future. Thanks for reading! Feedback is wanted and appreciated!


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